The Strange Story of Christmas
From canceled feasts to commercial frenzy, the meaning of Christmas has always been contested.
On Christmas Day in 1647, the people of England awoke to an unfamiliar silence: no carols, no feasts, no church bells. Christmas had been canceled by the Puritan-led Parliament, deemed too decadent, too pagan, too far removed from true Christian worship. Twelve years later, the Massachusetts Bay Colony followed suit, fining anyone caught exchanging gifts or feasting in honor of the holiday. A posted notice condemned the “Satanical Practices” of Christmas and warned of punishment for those who partook.
This wasn’t some grumpy outburst from a Scrooge or a Grinch. These were sincere efforts by Christians to reclaim what they saw as a sacred day desecrated by disorder and indulgence. Their decision may strike modern ears as extreme, but it forces an honest question: Has Christmas always belonged to Christ? Or has it always been a battlefield of competing stories?
To understand Christmas rightly is not to long for some pure, original version lost to history. It is to see that from its earliest days, the season has been both gloriously sacred and deeply secular. It is to acknowledge that the clash of devotion and distraction is not new. And it is to ask how we, today, might choose better not by canceling Christmas, but by consecrating it.
The Origins of December 25
It’s tempting to think that Christians have celebrated December 25 as Christ’s birthday since the beginning. But for the first few centuries of church history, Christmas wasn’t a major celebration at all. The earliest recorded observance comes from the mid-fourth century, when Roman bishop Julius I declared December 25 as the official date.
Why December 25? Theories vary. Some connect it to the winter solstice once the darkest day of the year on the Julian calendar and thus a symbolic time to honor the coming of the “great light” (Isaiah 9:2). Others believe it was selected to counter pagan festivals like Saturnalia or the Feast of Sol Invictus, or because March 25 was thought to be the date of Jesus’ conception, placing His birth nine months later.
Whatever the reason, Christmas was born into a season already brimming with revelry. And from the start, its celebration mingled with pagan customs and unruly traditions.
A Day of Disorder
For more than a thousand years, December 25 was less about calm nativity scenes and more about chaotic misrule. As historian Stephen Nissenbaum notes in The Battle for Christmas, the day often included drunkenness, sexual immorality, aggressive begging, and public mockery of authority.
In fourth-century Antioch, John Chrysostom warned his church not to approach the holiday “after an earthly manner.” His words echo through history as reminders that, left unchecked, even the celebration of Christ’s birth can be swallowed up by self-indulgence.
No wonder the Puritans balked. By the 1640s, Parliament described Christmas as a day of “extreame forgetfulnesse of Christ.” Their reaction may seem austere, but their concern was sincere: Christ had been crowded out of His own celebration.
From Misrule to Merriment
Around the 1800s, a transformation began. Christmas moved indoors. It became less rowdy and more refined, less like a carnival and more like a fireside gathering. The Christmas tree, once rare, became central. The focus shifted toward children, with traditions of gift-giving and Santa Claus taking deeper root.
Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol played a pivotal role in shaping this new Christmas: warm, redemptive, charitable. But as beautiful as this vision was, it brought its own risks. Christmas became sentimental. The holy infant remained, but increasingly hidden beneath a haze of vague goodwill.
Dickens’s tale is not without merit. After all, a heart turned from greed to generosity is no small change. Yet even as Scrooge found warmth, we must remember: Christian charity without Christ can become just another seasonal gloss, another “extreame forgetfulnesse” in softer clothes.
The Commercial Christmas
If debauchery marked early Christmas and sentiment marked the Victorian revival, today’s Christmas is marked by consumption. From Black Friday to Cyber Monday, from mall Santas to marathon shopping sprees, the season has become synonymous with spending.
In 2024, holiday retail sales in the U.S. surpassed $960 billion, according to the National Retail Federation. That’s nearly a trillion-dollar industry devoted largely to temporary pleasures. And while the act of gift-giving can be deeply Christian reflecting God’s generosity—the surrounding culture often distorts it into a frantic race for more.
C.S. Lewis lamented this commercialization even in his day, calling it a “commercial racket” that trains Christians to behave more like consumers than worshipers (God in the Dock, 338). The danger is not just overspending; it’s allowing the marketplace to redefine what should be a deeply spiritual time. As one scholar observed, “the liturgies of shopping can slowly erode the liturgies of worship.”
Reclaiming the Manger
So, how should believers approach Christmas today?
We don’t need to cancel Christmas like the Puritans, but we do need to consider what it means to truly celebrate Christ. Can we disentangle the holy from the hollow? Can we cultivate awe amid abundance?
Scripture offers a powerful vision. The angels proclaim, “Glory to God in the highest!” (Luke 2:14). Shepherds glorify and praise (Luke 2:20). Simeon and Anna bless God at the sight of Jesus (Luke 2:28–38). The magi, having traveled far, rejoice with “great joy” (Matthew 2:10) and bow in worship.
This is Christmas: not vague cheer or hurried bustle, but joyful, reverent worship of the incarnate Son of God.
As Augustine once reflected, “Man’s Maker was made man… that the Bread might be hungry, the Fountain thirsty, the Light sleep… and all so that sinners might be saved.” The wonder of Christmas is not in its trappings, but in its truth: that God became flesh to save us.
Living Nativity Scenes
What might it look like to recenter our Christmases on Christ?
If we give gifts, let them reflect His generosity not just our desires.
If we decorate, let our homes point to the glory of the Incarnation not just seasonal charm.
If we feast, let us make clear that Jesus is Lord of the table not just a backdrop to our merrymaking.
We won’t change the culture overnight, but we can shape our homes, our churches, and our hearts. We can raise children who know Christmas is not about what’s under the tree but who was laid in the manger. We can mark the season with worship, gratitude, and holy joy.
The story of Christmas has always been curious. But through every twist raucous revelry, romantic nostalgia, retail frenzy one truth has endured: Christ has come. He has come to save us, dwell with us, and lead us home.
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Reply
Freddie McNabb • 16 hours ago
The early Christians had determined the birth of Christ to be December 25 almost sixty-five years before the Romans began to celebrate Sol Invictus. Do a little better job researching your articles.
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